


Return to Me

by Odalis88



Category: Spartacus Series (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-08
Updated: 2013-10-11
Packaged: 2017-12-18 04:14:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/875504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Odalis88/pseuds/Odalis88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>FBI Agent Agron Hartmann has been kidnapped and Nasir is desperate to have him returned to his arms. Weeks after he was taken, Agron finds himself rescued and in a hospital. Nasir rushes to his side, but before he reaches Agron, panic grips him. Before the kidnapping, he and Agron had an explosive argument which was never resolved. Will Agron even welcome Nasir in his hospital room?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Nasir! Come over tonight. We’re all going to hang out. Mira is bringing over movies, and Spartacus is in charge of popcorn and pizza.”

“Thanks, Naevia, but I’m not really up for it.”

“Come on! I don’t like the idea of you just moping around all by yourself. Don’t make me send Crixus over there to kidnap you,” she threatened jokingly. But her words sent a now-familiar jolt of pain though Nasir’s heart at the mention of Agron’s partner for the last 8 months at the FBI.

“Yes, please do send Crixus over. I don’t think I’ll mistake him for a burglar and shoot him at all. Agron does have quite a spectacular arsenal of ancient weapons here as well. I wonder if I couldn’t find his mace…”

“Nasir,” she scolded, her voice full of censure over the phone, but he didn’t feel the least bit of remorse for his words. As far as Nasir was concerned, it was Crixus’ fault that Agron was missing, had been for the last three weeks and four days. Any second not spent in his office trying to figure out where his partner was being held was a second wasted. 

But he did feel bad for snapping at Naevia. “Look, the more I’m around you guys, the angrier I get. It’s not your fault, it’s just how I feel.”

“It’s not Crixus’ fault he’s missing,” she said quietly. 

Nasir’s jaw clenched. He didn’t want to get into an argument with her about the fact that her husband should have done a better job at watching Agron’s back while they were in the field tracking down a dangerous drug lord. The blame lay squarely on Crixus’ broad shoulders, but he didn’t want to get into it further. 

“Have a good time tonight.” Then he hung up on her. If you don’t have anything nice to say, say something witty and sarcastic. If it still comes out nasty, then don’t say anything at all. It was the real reason why he just wanted to be alone with his misery. When he was around other couples, bitterness welled up in him until it bubbled up hurtfully to the people he loved.

It was only 7:30, but Nasir put on one of Agron’s t-shirts and curled up in bed. Since he didn’t want to imagine where Agron might be or what he was going through, Nasir turned on the television and stared unseeingly at the screen. 

But it didn’t help in clearing his mind of unpleasant thoughts of their last encounter. They’d gotten into a fight; a stupid one too, but one that had quickly escalated. For days after he went missing, anger had warred with worry whenever Nasir thought about Agron. 

He’d done nothing wrong. It was Agron’s ridiculous jealously that began the quarrel. Agron had seen Nasir comforting his friend Castus after a nasty breakup and went completely mental. Normally, Nasir overlooked the jealously thing, which typically manifested itself in Agron being supremely protective of him. Helped, of course, by the fact that Agron was an FBI agent, it was his natural state. 

But this time, he’d said something unforgivable. Agron had ordered him never to see Castus again. Ordered. Like he was Agron’s property or a pet to do as he was told. He was about ready to kick him out when Agron got a call from his office. He’d left without another word. 

In his anger, Nasir was seriously contemplating changing the locks while Agron was away when he got the news that he’d been kidnapped by the guy he and Crixus were chasing. 

Over time, the anger had morphed into guilt, which melted into emptiness. Nasir clicked off the show he wasn’t watching and stared at the ceiling. He wasn’t super religious, but he found himself praying every night for Agron’s safe return. 

If only he could touch Agron again, somehow make up for all the rage and resentment he’d felt during his absence. Part of him thought crying might make him feel better, but nothing came. There was nothing inside. 

****

Nasir woke to incessant pounding on his front door. He ignored it at first. Whatever it was, 3 a.m. was not the time for anyone to swing by. 

Bang, bang, bang, bang!

When it became apparent that whoever it was wouldn’t leave, he padded to the living room, pulling on his bathrobe over Agron’s shirt. 

“What?” he asked rudely as he swung open the door, startled to see Naevia on the other side. It looked as though she hadn’t even gone to sleep tonight. 

“I’ve called your cell a million times! And why isn’t your land line working?” She demanded in a trilling voice. “They found him!”

It felt like his stomach had been sucked out though his naval. “Agron?” he said in disbelief. Nasir almost gave into the urge to slap his own face to make sure he wasn’t dreaming this up. 

“We didn’t even get to the movie when Crixus received this phone call. He vanished and-” 

“Agron!” Nasir reminded her sharply. He honestly didn’t care about the rest of the story. 

“He’s at the hospital.”

Nasir tried to push past her to get to his car, but she blocked his path. 

“Pants might be nice.” He looked down at his bathrobe and groaned aloud. Rushing back to his room, Nasir literally jumped into the first pair of sweatpants he could lay his hands on, then flew into the passenger’s side seat of Naevia’s tiny Honda Fit.

It took every ounce of self-control Nasir possessed not to order Naevia to drive faster. It wasn’t like there was a whole hell of a lot of traffic at this time of night, and who would really care if she ran a stoplight or two on the way to the hospital?

After what felt like hours, even though he only lived 12 miles from Saint Thomas’s, Nasir was following Naevia up to Agron’s room. He broke into a near-run right up until he got to Agron’s door, then he stopped short.

What if Agron didn’t want to see him? Was he still angry over their fight? In his current state, Nasir knew he would be crushed by Agron’s rejection. 

“Honey, what are you waiting for?” Naevia rubbed his back comfortingly. 

“I don’t know.”

Suck it up. Nasir took a deep breath like he was about to plunge into a raging ocean in the middle of a category 5 hurricane and opened the door. 

He needn’t have worried about Agron rejecting him, at least right away. Through all the bandages, tubes, and monitors, Nasir could see that he was sleeping. Grateful that he was spared a confrontation while still infused with the knowledge that Agron was alive, Nasir took a seat in the chair next to the hospital bed. 

“Do you want me to bring you anything?”

He turned to look at Naevia, and regret hit him hard over his recent treatment of her. “No, thank you. I owe you big-time and I love you so much for bringing me here.”

“Anytime.” She smiled warmly and moved to stand beside him. Resting her hand on his shoulder, she bent down to kiss the crown of his head. “I’ll be back in the morning. Try to get some sleep.”

Once he was alone with his thoughts, fears, and the man he loved, Nasir felt exhaustion gnawing at him and making heavy his eyelids. But he fought succumbing for as long as he was able; instead, he examined Agron, trying to catalogue his injuries. 

Both wrists were wrapped, but they didn’t look broken. Wouldn’t they have put them in sturdier casts if they were broken? The huge bandage wrapped around his chest and shoulder looked terrifying and Nasir dreaded speaking to the doctor tomorrow and finding out what it concealed. Minor cuts and bruises covered his face, arms, and probably his legs, but a blanket concealed his lower body. 

More than the damage he had suffered, was the fact that Agron appeared to have lost nearly half of his original body weight. Had he been starved?

Nasir hated seeing Agron like this. His lover, who was so strong-willed and independent, would require weeks of treatment and care. He would loathe not being able to tend to himself. And taking care of him would be no picnic either; Nasir had played ‘nurse’ when Agron had fallen ill with the flu last year and almost gave in to the desire to drug him to sleep for the duration of his sickness. 

He settled into the chair, propped his head up with his hand, and stayed that way, looking at Agron and still trying to convince himself that this was not a dream, until he finally fell asleep.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FBI Agent Agron Hartmann has been kidnapped and Nasir is desperate to have him returned to his arms. Weeks after he was taken, Agron finds himself rescued and in a hospital. Nasir rushes to his side, but before he reaches Agron, panic grips him. Before the kidnapping, he and Agron had an explosive argument which was never resolved. Will Agron even welcome Nasir in his hospital room?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not a doctor or in any way close to the medical profession, so I'm totally making up the hospital stuff.

Agron woke very slowly, a slight haze blurring his eyesight until he was able to focus on a clean, white tiled ceiling. It was very bright in here. Where they hell had they taken him now? 

Every movement hurt, but he turned his head to the right and saw enough of the hallway through the partly-glass door to tell that he was in a hospital. He probably ought to be happy, but honestly, the pain he was in severely diluted any relief he might have experienced upon this discovery. Then he turned to his left and received a shock that transcended the ache. 

Nasir’s head, resting on folded arms, lay on the hospital bed next to him, his hair in total disarray and wearing, if Agron wasn’t mistaken, his shirt. It swallowed Nasir whole. He couldn’t decide whether or not to worry about the fact that Nasir appeared to have lost weight; it might just be that he was wearing an over-large garment that wasn’t his own. Or was he not taking care of himself?

He tried to move his arm, wishing to wake Nasir by brushing strands of black hair away from his face, but he was too weak. 

“Nasir,” he croaked. 

Stirring stiffly, Nasir looked around for who had said his name and received a jolt of astonishment as tired green eyes stared back at him. 

“Agron!” His first instinct was to throw himself into his boyfriend’s arms, so glad to see his face after all this time, but he kept himself from the impulse. Instead he brought up his hand to cup Agron’s relatively uninjured cheek. “How do you feel?” Even as the question left his lips, he knew it was a stupid one, but Agron answered anyway. 

“Like shit. How long have I been here?”

“Very recently. I only heard about it last night at around 3 in the morning. I came right over.”

“Oh, so that’s why...” Agron’s eyes flitted down Nasir’s ill-fitting shirt and baggy sweatpants. Now that he was standing, Agron saw that Nasir had managed to cover the shirt in what appeared to be charcoal from his drawings. Did that stuff come out of clothes? He had no idea.

Nasir’s cheeks heated. “I heard ‘hospital’ so I came running. I would have come in boxers had Naevia not forced me to put pants on.”

The corner of Agron’s lip twitched. Nasir waited for Agron to say something, letting go of his cheek and stroking the back of his left hand right below the bandage on his wrist. 

When Agron didn’t speak, Nasir exploded in a rush, “I’m so sorry. I missed you more than you know and I’ve felt terrible about how we left things.” There, he said it. Now he was only terrified of Agron’s response, but at least they weren’t trying to navigate around the elephant taking up half the room. 

“You missed me?” Agron asked in disbelief, as though it were a completely inconceivable notion. 

Nasir looked at him like he was worried about his mental capacity. “Of course! I love you, don’t I?”

Agron didn’t answer right away. He didn’t even know how long he’d been gone for, but every second had been made worse with the thought that, if he ever did get free, Nasir might have already left. He had half expected to return home and find it empty. “I didn’t expect you’d stay.”

A myriad of emotions crossed Nasir’s face in the blink of an eye. Agron saw confusion, resentment, anger, pity, and grief, and didn’t like that he had caused it. 

“Look,” Nasir said after he had his initial reaction under control. “We had a fight,” he tried to make it sound like it had been no big deal, but if Agron hadn’t have gotten that call when he did, Nasir would have kicked him out. “Every couple has those. But for three and a half weeks, I had to endure life without you. And it was the most miserable month I have ever experienced. Ask Naevia, ask anyone, and they’ll tell you that I was like, clinically depressed.”

A mixture of horror and pain filled Agron’s eyes. “Three and a half weeks?” That’s how long he’d been out of commission?

“Yeah,” Nasir said softly, stroking his bandaged arms carefully. He didn’t say anything as Agron absorbed that information. Before he had a chance to recover from the shock, the door opened to admit a middle-aged woman in a white coat. 

Nasir accepted her cold handshake. 

“I’m Doctor Moser.”

“Nasir,” he mumbled, wishing he was wearing something nicer than pajamas as her critical eye gave him a quick once-over. He attempted to manage the tangled mess of his hair with a self-conscious brush of his fingers. 

“Good Morning, Nasir. What is your relationship to Agent Hartmann?”

“We’re… I’m his…”

“He’s my partner.”

Nasir tried not to look too surprised at Agron’s words. They were together, boyfriends, lovers, but “partners” made them sound like an old gay married couple. 

“Oh…Oh!” Nasir saw the exact moment Dr. Moser understood that Agron did not mean FBI partner. 

“I’d like him told everything about my condition as he’ll be in charge of medical decisions should anything happen to me.”

Nasir could not have been more stunned had Agron slugged him and hoped it didn’t show on his face. He didn’t interrupt the doctor while she catalogued Agron’s injuries, most of which were caused by blunt-force trauma though he did suffer from mild malnutrition. The ones that worried her most were his wrists, he had been suspended from the ceiling and the cord had cut into the flesh, and the gunshot wound to his shoulder. 

“When… when can I take him home?”

She pursed her lips and let her gaze rove Agron’s body while she thought. “I would like to keep him here until his shoulder is healed and we’re sure we’ve warded off infection. I’ll assess his condition at the end of the week and let you know.” Her phone beeped in her pocket. “If you have further questions or need anything, this button will summon the on-call nurse. We’ll be sure to give Agent Hartmann the very best of care.”

Nasir turned back to Agron after Dr. Moser left. “I’m your partner, huh?”

He colored slightly beneath the bruises on his face. “I thought it sounded more impressive than calling you my boyfriend. I wanted her to take our relationship seriously in case something happened and I really couldn’t make any medical decisions. Is that okay?” 

There was an undercurrent of uncertainty in his voice that made Nasir hurt for him. “Yes. More than.” He wanted to say something about the root of that insecurity. Nasir was sure it was tied to his explosive jealousy and wished there was some way to make Agron understand that all that bitter angst was completely unnecessary. Even when they fought, there was no one else who appealed to Nasir that even compared to Agron. But now was not the time for such a discussion. 

Instead he said, “It means a lot that you’re putting that kind of trust in me. I can’t wait until we can go home and just… pretend like the last month never happened.”

“No, Nasir. I can’t do that.” For one heart-stopping second, Nasir thought he meant their fight, but as Agron continued, his intent became clear. “Being kidnapped is something that never just goes away. I’ll be fucked up for a while.”

Agron looked at Nasir significantly, like he was trying to put out an idea without actually having to say the words aloud.

Nasir had no clue where Agron was taking this train of thought. He only responded with a confused glare and a small shake of his head.

“I’ll be like this,” Agron indicated his ravaged body with a wave of his hand, “for a while. We can’t just snap back to the way we were. It’ll be a slow crawl back to even get near the neighborhood of normalcy and it could take months for me to physically get over everything that happened.”

“I know. And I’ll help.” Nasir intertwined his fingertips with Agron’s. 

Agron looked like his next words hurt to speak them. “It means the world to me that you were here when I woke up and I love you for it. But I can’t take away so much of your life asking you to take care of me. I don’t want that for you.”

Nasir couldn’t believe what he was hearing. After everything that had happened, after all the frustrated, vengeful energy during his absence, after the overwhelming joy of finally getting him back, Agron was just going to send him away?

To hell with that.

Just as he was about to open his mouth to say that he had absolutely no intention of going anywhere, the door behind him opened to reveal Crixus and Naevia.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agron returns home from the hospital and finds something unexpected waiting for him there. He'll have to learn how to accept help graciously as he heals from his abduction.

Agron lay on his hospital bed staring at the ceiling feeling wholly miserable. Not because of the pain he was in – it had actually lessened somewhat over the past few days. 

The source of his sour mood was the absence of Nasir. Earlier this week, he’d asked Nasir to leave. He didn’t want the man to waste away next to his sickbed and then for however long it would take to return his broken body back to full functionality. After putting up an award-winning hissy fit, Nasir had left. Agron hadn’t seen him since. Incredibly, a tiny part of him felt abandoned even though Nasir was just doing what he’d asked. 

Now he waited for the doctor to release him from the hospital. He would return home, or possibly move into a hotel, as he healed. Agron didn’t relish the thought of being stuck alone in the house he and Nasir had once shared. 

“You are one lucky man, Agron,” Dr. Moser said cheerfully as she swept into his room. “You’re healing at a tremendous rate for the level of injuries you sustained.”

“Strong German genes,” he replied without humor. Nothing would be funny anymore. 

“Yes, well, I am happy to say that you are well enough for me to feel comfortable releasing you. We’ll of course be keeping a close eye on you for the next several weeks. Be careful not to strain your wrists; it’s such a delicate area that we don’t want to have to go back in there if it can be avoided. No strenuous activity until the sling comes off your arm, either, but I can see no lasting damage from the bullet wound. I’m going to ask you to make an appointment this coming week so I can see how you’re progressing.” 

Agron nodded.

“I don’t recommend living on your own for a while. Do you have someone to stay with?” 

Had she forgotten meeting Nasir? As far as she knew, he and his “partner” would be living together. “Yes,” he lied, just wanting to be left alone. But as soon as she left, Naevia entered. 

“Hey, sweetie! Are you ready to go home?”

“Yes.”

She produced a wheelchair from the hallway and insisted he sit in it. Agron slumped glumly in the chair as she pushed him to her miniscule car. She wouldn’t even let him carry his bag of clothes and personal effects. He no longer had any dignity left to offend, but his face was bright red by the time she got him loaded and on their way. 

“Did they feed you breakfast? I was thinking we could stop at Denny’s or something on the way to your house.”

“No.”

“No they didn’t feed you or no to Denny’s?”

“Yes.”

Naevia huffed at him impatiently. “I’m getting fed up with these one-word answers. We can at least swing by the drug store. I bet you have prescriptions to fill.”

“Nope.” He’d already taken care of that at the hospital. 

Drumming her fingers on the steering wheel, Naevia drove him home in silence until she pulled into the drive way. 

Agron vacated the Honda Fit and slung his bag over his shoulder before she could stop him. He tried to make a run for his front door. Unfortunately, his running days were over, at least for a while. 

Naevia caught up to him easily and reached up to take the bag from him. But even with his ravaged, shriveled body, he still towered over her slim frame. 

“ _Don’t!_ I’m not helpless, Naevia! I don’t need you to carry shit for me or fucking treat me like an infant!”

She planted her hands on her hips and spoke in an infuriatingly patient voice as though she were addressing a four year old. “I know you’re not helpless. I’m just trying to make it easier for you. You need to learn to accept help graciously once in a while. Call me if you need anything, okay sweetie?”

And with that, she got into her car and drove away, leaving Agron feeling only marginally remorseful. He dug out his house key and opened the front door. 

His nose was immediately assaulted by a delicious smell originating from the direction of kitchen. Agron frowned, dropped his bag, and went to investigate. 

Nasir had his back to him and was washing dishes at the sink. He turned when Agron cursed foully. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Agron had to remind himself why he wanted Nasir gone, but seeing him standing in their kitchen, he had trouble remembering the reasons. He looked healthier, seemingly having filled out in the days since Agron had first seen him in his hospital room. Of course, it was probably because he was wearing clothes that actually fit him. 

Nasir was gorgeous as ever in faded jeans and a white cotton shirt, which really set off the golden hue of his unblemished skin. His shoulder length black hair was combed and pulled into a neat ponytail. Agron could imagine himself going over to him and tugging the tie out of his hair and running his fingers through the soft locks. 

“Maybe it’s been a while since I played nursemaid, but this is still how it’s done, right? I’m making soup, your favorite, matzo ball!” Nasir tried to inject enthusiasm into his voice, but Agron’s scowl made him realize how much of an uphill battle he was fighting. 

“I thought I told you to go,” Agron said. He purposefully made his voice harder than necessary because if he relented even a little bit, he would break down and let Nasir do whatever he wanted to baby and pity him. 

He tolerated no one’s pity.

“And I listened. I left you alone all week!”

Agron growled. He turned his back on the kitchen and headed upstairs to lie down. Nasir skidded to a halt in front of him before he reached the first step. 

“Where’re you going?”

“My bedroom, if that’s okay with you, lord pain-in-my-ass.”

Nasir ignored his hostility. “It’s not up there anymore, I moved it.”

“ _Why?_ ”

“I… thought it would be a nice change of pace. I switched our bedroom with my studio. For fun.” Nasir knew Agron could see past his flimsy response, but he also knew how poorly Agron would react to the suggestion that he couldn’t walk up a flight of stairs. When Agron just scowled down at him, Nasir added defensively, “I had to do _something_ while I was here all alone! I also cleaned out the attic and replaced the batteries in all the smoke detectors.” 

In too much pain to protest, Agron turned and shuffled toward the small room that used to hold a large desk and a worktable filled with all matter of drawing materials. The walls, formerly covered in illustrations and sketches, were bare. 

Pausing briefly in the doorway, Agron marveled at how Nasir had managed to fit the bed in this tiny space. There was hardly enough room for him to squeeze between the wall and the mattress. He tried to ignore Nasir as he lay atop the comforter, though he could sense him hovering by the doorframe. 

Nasir stared at Agron’s prone form on their bed. For the first time in all the years he’d known Agron, the man appeared lanky – tall and shockingly thin. He didn’t know how long it would take before his muscles and prior bulk returned, but Nasir felt the urge to feed him continually until his cheeks were no longer hollow and his eyes no longer sunken. 

He knew Agron didn’t want him around, and the rejection hurt. But what ached even more was the idea of leaving him to heal in solitude. 

“I’m so happy you’re back, Agron,” Nasir whispered, knowing his tone reflected more sorrow than joy. “You have to believe that I love you with all my heart and that I would do anything for you. Except abandon you when you need me. And I know you would say you don’t need anyone, but everyone needs someone. No man is an island unto himself, and I can’t even express the level to which I need you.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agron sneaks a peak at Nasir's sketchbook; playful banter comes to an abrupt halt at a reminder of Agron's abduction; and Nasir tries to summon the courage to tell Agron a secret he fears will trigger a rehashing of their old argument.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, yes! To hell with the "only post on Monday" rule. Please, enjoy...

When Agron woke the next morning, Nasir was lying on the opposite side of the bed. He wore a t-shirt that he’d stolen from Agron’s closet and hugged a pillow as he slept. It made him look vulnerable somehow, and it roused Agron’s protective instincts. The sight also made his chest tighten as guilt tore through him. 

Nasir only wanted to help, he knew that. But being treated like an invalid felt like swallowing burning coals. He needed to control himself and his environment; after his kidnapping, it was essential to retaining what little sanity he still possessed. 

Agron rolled off the bed with excruciating slowness, partly to prevent waking Nasir but primarily because his injuries demanded it, and crept silently from the bedroom. He intended to find and prepare the simplest food he could find for breakfast, but something caught his attention while he passed through the living room. It was a large sketchbook. It stood out because it was literally the only thing there out of place. Nasir really must have been bored; the house hadn’t been so orderly since they’d moved in. 

He hesitated before picking it up. The sketchbook belonged to Nasir and he knew from experience that it was as personal to him as a diary. Agron stared at the faded red cover as he thought of the weeks of senseless cruelty and torture at the hands of his abductors. During that entire time, only thoughts of Nasir kept him from losing his mind. 

But what had Nasir been thinking about? Curiosity to delve into his intimate thoughts drove out any concerns for privacy. Agron opened to the first drawing. 

At first, he couldn’t distinguish anything other than angry, harsh shapes. Then he saw abstracted figures within the barrage of lines. There were three of them. The one in the middle was on its knees subjugating itself to the one on the far right. 

The next dozen were much the same. All monochromatic, drawn in unforgiving charcoal. They were rage-filled and, strangely, captured his temperament throughout his imprisonment. But none were what he expected to find in Nasir’s sketchbook. 

Following these disquieting images, were several very minimalist pencil drawings. Agron didn’t understand these at all. He supposed they were meant to be simple and uncluttered, but they came across as empty and void, very unlike Nasir’s usual style. 

Agron turned the page and found a sketch of… himself. He continued flipping, losing track of the number of times he saw his own image reflected back at him. They ranged from close-ups of his face, to him and Nasir in various locations, real and imagined. 

He stopped short when he saw an illustration of him in a hospital bed. It depicted his room exactly. This one was nearly photo-realistic, but he knew it had to have been done from memory since Nasir hadn’t carried a sketchbook the one time he visited him in the hospital. 

Just as he was about to flip the page, a loud voice behind him caused him to jump.

“ _Hey!_ ” He turned to see Nasir rushing toward him. “What the hell are you doing?” Nasir snapped the sketchpad shut and snatched it away from him, holding it tight against his chest. “Do I go playing around with your gun when you’re not looking?”

Agron hid his repentance behind a mask of indifference. “Sorry.”

Fuming beyond reason, Nasir spun on his heel and ascended the stairs two at a time to drop his sketchbook off in his new studio – what used to be their bedroom. He took a full two minutes to find his center before returning downstairs. 

Agron sat at the dining room table eating cereal dry, directly from the box. Nasir heaved a deep sigh, took the box from him, and brought it to the kitchen counter. There, he poured some in a bowl, covered it with milk, and stuck a spoon in it before sliding it in front of Agron, who stiffened at the gesture but didn’t speak to reprimand him for the aid. 

Nasir wanted to simultaneously ring his neck, and fall into his arms and demand – beg if need be – that their relationship to return to normal, when they had been happy.

Agron dug into the bowl in front of him, trying to hide the effort it took to hold a spoon with his left hand and stinging wrist as his dominant one was still in a sling. He frowned as Nasir took a fat, permanent marker from the junk drawer and drew something on the cereal box. 

“What are you doing?”

He turned the box to face Agron. It now had a large letter A on the front. “I’m not going to eat this after you stuck your hand in it. This is your box now.”

In a failing effort to hide his amusement, Agron loaded a large spoonful of cereal and stuffed it into his mouth. “Is this how it’s going to be now? Divvying up our stuff?”

“If you can’t be courteous with the shared items, yes! We’re not animals.”

This time, Agron smirked openly. “Then take off that shirt.”

“Excuse me?” Nasir crossed his arms over his chest, making no effort to remove any article of clothing. 

“That’s _my_ shirt. I saw what you did to the other one. It was covered in your drawing crap, that charcoal stuff.” 

Nasir huffed. “I only ruined the one shirt and it was one I used to sleep in anyway. I needed a coverall-type thing and I happen to know it wasn’t your favorite. Or did you have a special connection to that particular shirt that I need to be jealous about?”

Agron twisted to face him in his chair. “Why do you always assume you can take shit out of my closet? We need to keep the cereal separate but you can take my clothes anytime you want?”

An evil smile curled Nasir’s lips. “We can share clothes, but _I_ never stretch out your shirts after I wear them.”

Agron fought down his responding smile with every part of him. “Are you calling me fat, little man?”

And with those flippant words, Nasir’s humor died. It made him think of Agron starving and alone for three and a half weeks. 

Agron scowled at the suddenly haunted, pained look in Nasir’s eyes. He didn’t move as Nasir came up to him, pressed a chaste kiss to his forehead, and wordlessly left the kitchen. 

_What the fuck?_

He didn’t even say anything as Nasir snagged his hospital bag where he’d dropped it in the front entryway yesterday when he never would have allowed it otherwise. He didn’t want Nasir doing everything for him like he was a totally incompetent jackass who needed someone to tie his shoes and required help crossing the street. 

Nasir dumped the clothing contents of Agron’s duffel bag into the washing machine without checking to see whether or not they were dirty. He needed to do some mindless activity with his hands to give himself time to pull his emotions together. For Agron, he needed to be strong and not break down at every reminder of his abduction.

When he returned to the kitchen, Agron fought for possession of his empty cereal bowl halfheartedly, but Nasir won the battle and brought it to the sink. He washed it by hand even though they had a dishwasher. After drying and returning it to the cabinet, he sprayed the sink basin with 409 and began scrubbing it with a sponge. 

Agron frowned even more at Nasir’s actions. Never had he been sloppy, but nor had he ever been such a neat-freak. He examined the kitchen and saw differences his brain had overlooked earlier. Where it used have a comfortably disheveled feel to it, it now appeared sterile and unlived in. Now that he thought about it, the living room looked that way too. 

“Nasir,” he began, walking to stand at his back and placing a hand between his shoulder blades. “Are you okay?”

“What? I’m fine. Why? Are you still hungry?”

Agron slid his left hand up and over Nasir’s shoulder to rest on his chest. He could feel the heartbeat beneath his palm pound troublingly. “No. Why don’t you make yourself breakfast?”

“I will, I will. Coffee?” Nasir moved away from him and began a pot. 

Resuming his seat at the table, Agron watched Nasir carefully. Up until this point, he had only spared thought to his own recovery. He hadn’t even considered what Nasir might be going through. 

“Nasir, why aren’t you at work?” Agron glanced to the wall clock. It was now past 9:30. 

“I have –” He cut himself off. “Someone’s covering for me.” Nasir could feel Agron’s gaze on his back. “You know what? I’m going to sit outside and draw or something.”

“Breakfast!” Agron reminded him sharply. 

Nasir grabbed an apple and waved it mockingly for Agron’s inspection. Then he planted a quick kiss on his lips and left for the back yard.

_Shit._ He’d forgotten about the work situation until Agron had mentioned it. He felt guilty as hell for omitting the truth, but he knew it would only trigger a fight or hurt Agron more. 

Nasir stared blindly out at the yard while he ate his apple. There was _nothing_ between him and Cas. It wasn’t even a question in his mind, especially since his friend had been seeing someone for the past two weeks, someone who he was totally head-over-heels for. He actually found it uncomfortable to be in their company given how uninterested they both were in anything but each other. 

But Cas was the reason why he and Agron had gotten into that fight in the first place. Nasir honestly didn’t know how he would react to the information that Cas had been covering for him all week. It was something that was going to come out eventually and the more he delayed the worse it would be. But he dreaded even mentioning his friend’s name to Agron. Maybe he could find a way to throw it out in casual conversation. If _he_ acted like it was no big deal, maybe Agron would feel the same way. 

Yet, nothing between then was “casual” anymore. Nasir longed to fast-forward to the time when he and Agron could stay up at night and talk for hours about absolutely nothing, simply enjoying each other’s company. He hoped they returned to that point, but somehow they’d both need to move past the abduction. Not to mention, get over Agron’s delusion that Cas was in anyway threat to their relationship.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nasir reveals his terrible head-space when Agron was missing; Agron relives a portion of his torture and shares the experience with Nasir.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have changed the rating on this story from 'Teen and up audiences' to 'Mature' because I wasn't positive on where the bed scene in this chapter fell along that spectrum, so I'm just playing on the safe side of the fence. Also, knowing myself, I'll most likely want to include more mature material as the story progresses.

Once the coffee had brewed, Agron made a cup for himself and Nasir. Every movement of his arms was a tremendous effort. Of all his remaining aches, they hurt worse. While he’d been hanging by his wrists in that basement, or multiple basements as they had periodically moved him around, he feared his arms would pop out of their sockets. It left his shoulders stiff and uncomfortable – not to mention the healing gunshot wound that kept his right arm in the fucking sling. 

Grinding his teeth, he made his way to the back yard. He elbowed open the screen door with his relatively good arm and froze. It was a sharp contrast to the obsessively clean house. The grass looked like it hadn’t been cut for weeks and weeds grew haphazardly in the small garden plot near the far fence. 

“Shit.”

Nasir looked up from the porch swing at his curse and rushed over to take custody of the coffee. “Bah, bah, bah, bah! You’re not supposed to be using your arm,” he chastised. 

“Give me that!” Agron snatched back the ‘Warning: I have mad ninja skills’ mug with his left hand, leaving Nasir the ‘Keep calm and drink coffee’ one. “And you’re welcome.”

Sighing, Nasir gave a reluctant, “Thank you.”

Agron sat next to him on the swing overlooking the depressingly unkempt yard. “Did you file a police report?”

“What?”

He didn’t even try to keep his sarcasm in check. “I just assume that someone broke into the shed and stole the lawn mower. Am I wrong? Why else would I have come home to a jungle back here?”

Nasir didn’t answer right away. By an unspoken agreement, it had usually been Agron’s job to take care of the yard work and with him gone…

“Like I said at the hospital, I was severely depressed when I didn’t know where you were. I didn’t feel like doing a whole lot of anything.” Except draw when his emotions grew too wild and escaped through his fingertips. 

“Then why does the inside of the house look like we’re about to host the Queen of England? It’s neurotically clean in there.”

Heat flooded Nasir’s cheeks. “I did that this past week.” When he’d known Agron was safe, but was unwelcome by his side. 

He and Nasir lapsed into silence until another thought hit him. “Why doesn’t the front yard look like an overgrown hobbit hole?” As far as he could remember, it hadn’t looked out of place when Naevia had dropped him off. Of course, that may be due to the fact that he had been entirely focused on getting away from her at the time, not allowing her the chance to baby him. 

Nasir snorted. “Neighbors. When it became apparent that I wouldn’t tend it myself, they did it for me.”

“That was nice, I guess.” Agron took a sip of his coffee, then scowled. Needed more sugar, and maybe a shot of Bailey’s. 

“I think it was more so the house wouldn’t stick out and make the rest of the street look bad than any kind of selfless act on their part. Still nice though.” Nasir took a deep breath and, before he chickened out, blurted, “Cas has been covering for me at work.”

Agron didn’t react like Nasir had expected him too. He seemed rather calm, actually. Was that a good sign?

“Is that all he’s been doing?” 

Did Agron add emphasis to _all_ , or was that Nasir’s imagination? “He was a good friend to me while you were gone. I couldn’t be around anyone, even Naevia, but he would talk to me when I was really upset and weak enough to dump my depression on him. He would reassure me that everything would be alright. That you’d come home.”

Agron sat his coffee down and reached for Nasir’s free hand with his left. He played with the nimble fingers, a few shades darker than his own. Extremely capable, yet seemingly delicate. 

“I’m glad you had someone to turn to. I never thought about how any of this affected you.” He huffed and continued in a near whisper, “I am such a selfish asshole, huh?”

Nasir whipped around to gaze at him, appalled by Agron’s words. “ _No!_ Agron, I don’t fault you in the least for thinking of yourself. I don’t blame you – I understand. What you went through…” He could barely form coherent words. “I can’t even begin to comprehend how it must have been for you. My pain was a mere fraction of what you suffered, a pale shadow.”

***

He hung from his wrists in a frigid cellar. Someone doused him with a bucket of water to rouse him from their latest round of torture.

Agron spluttered and attempted to control his shivering. They asked questions about the investigation that had led him here, about his partner at the FBI, about his personal life. He was half out of his mind yet he refused to give the bastards any information. Let them kill him, it would be a reprieve from this hell. 

The passage of time meant nothing as he dangled numbly from his arms. They might have carried on for ten minutes or another two hours. When they decided to break for the night, someone threw another bucket of water over his bare, already shivering, body. Then another cracked open a tiny window to let in the unsympathetically cold night air.

Needles were being shoved into every square inch of his exposed skin. Why wouldn’t he just freeze to death already? If he thought he could either die or escape by aiding the wire binding him in severing his wrists, he’d do it in a heartbeat. But he knew the guard outside the door would hear and staunch the blood loss before he died, and if he was left with no hands, he’d have no chance of fighting his way out.

He was wondering how much more he could take before ice encrusted his entire body when something white-hot seared his shoulder. 

***

Agron bolted upright in bed. The involuntary movement made his shoulder throb and he brought a hand up to clutch it, as though the contact would somehow lessen the ache. His heart was racing as though he’d just run an entire marathon whilst being chased by a bear. He felt the sensation on his shoulder again, but it was soothing in the darkness of his bedroom. Nasir’s warm hand. 

“Babe, what’s wrong?”

The hand on his shoulder moved to rub the back of his neck. Agron turned to face the wall, but Nasir grabbed his chin and forced him to meet those fathoms deep brown eyes, filled with concern and anxiety. 

“Don’t shut me out, _please_ ,” Nasir murmured, leaning forward to place a reassuring kiss on his lips. Couldn’t Agron see how agonizing it was to know he was in pain and yet be helpless to do anything about it? 

Agron breathed him in. “It was just a nightmare.”

“No, not just.”

As he took comfort in Nasir’s presence and tried to slow his still rampaging heart rate, Agron appreciated that Nasir didn’t push for information. When he was confident that he could speak without a tremor slipping into his voice, he said, “It was near the end. A few days before I was rescued, I think. I don’t even know where I was, but it was a basement and I was half delusional. The flunkies beat me while someone else attempted to ‘question’ me. As far as the spectrum of torture goes, this instance didn’t rank particularly high. But…” It still frightened him that he had been so powerless to protect himself – incapable, defenseless. He had never been those things before. 

Nasir laid him back on the bed and stretched out almost completely on top of him, peppering feather-light kisses across his collar bone. “I won’t ever let you be hurt again,” he whispered against Agron’s chest. “I may not appear that physically imposing, but I would hunt down butcher anyone who even thinks of taking you away from me again.”

Warmth spread through him at Nasir’s words. “I know you would. I would do worse if you were threatened.” He would, too. He’d break out the ancient pear of anguish from his collection of weapons and split their skull if anyone touched a hair on his man’s head. 

Agron carefully wrapped his arms around Nasir’s lithe body. He wanted to apologize for his abhorrent behavior before his capture and torture. In the weeks following, he’d thought of little else. He knew Nasir loved him; it was obvious in everything he did. 

Nasir didn’t speak for so long that he thought he’d fallen asleep, but breath tickled Agron’s chest, forming soft words. 

“Am I too heavy?”

Nasir made a sleepy, half-hearted attempt to roll off him, but Agron tightened his left arm around Nasir’s torso. 

Agron almost snorted in derision. _Too heavy?_ Nasir? “Don’t move or I’ll kick your ass.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of Nasir's head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it's taken me so long to update this story! I've been caught up in moving halfway across the country and have had little time to devote to writing. Unfortunately, it is still impossible to drive while typing, since I spent many hours in my car recently... I can outline in my head to a certain degree, but my creativity flows so much easier when my fingers have access to a keyboard. 
> 
> Again, sorry for the delay, those of you who are still reading! Thanks for continuing to do so!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agron and Nasir try to pick up where they left off, but are interrupted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think it is abundantly clear at this point that I'm not a doctor, so I'm probably accelerating Agron's healing process a bit. I believe the reason why I'm writing it this way, is that I began this story quite a long time ago, or so it seems, and thus it feels like he should be farther along. In "reality" this is meant to be roughly a week since he returned home from the hospital. 
> 
> Oh, and I don't normally say it, but all mistakes are my own.

_A few days later_

Nasir had chosen this room for his studio due to the abundance of natural lighting it received. He’d been sad to convert it to a bedroom, but in this moment, Agron had never looked so peaceful or _right_. He belonged. He _owned_ this room, and Nasir’s heart. 

Positive that Agron was fast asleep, Nasir padded upstairs to retrieve his sketchbook and a graphite pencil. Ever so carefully, he drew back the curtains, further bathing the room in a soft orange, early-morning glow. He perched on the lower corner of the bed facing Agron and began to draw. 

Most of the bruises, scrapes, and physical evidence of his ordeal had vanished, leaving only the bandages covering his shoulder and wrists. The royal blue sheets twisted nicely around his waist, barring a great portion of his near flawless skin and the enticing roadmap of his back. Agron still appeared too long and lanky to Nasir’s acute eye, but no longer did he look so ill and uncared for. 

It was not often that Nasir favored illustrating his scenes photo-realistically, but this instance demanded it. He wanted to capture every millimeter of the image in front of him because it was a reflection of how life _should_ be: Agron, over-large in the tiny bedroom, spread out across their bed, hand resting on Nasir’s pillow. 

He relived the sensation of falling asleep encircled by Agron’s arms as he had done several nights previously; it was a feeling that, out of necessity, he had grown accustomed to being without. A goofy smile plastered itself across his face as Nasir attempted to incarcerate this moment forever on paper, a medium which would never offer an adequate likeness of Agron to do his beauty justice. 

Nasir was working on the window above the bed when his man stirred. 

Agron’s arm stretched automatically to reach for Nasir. When he felt that side of the bed cold, he turned to see him sitting cross-legged on the extreme edge of the mattress with his red sketchpad in his lap. He said nothing, but continued to draw and stare with single-minded intensity. 

“Morning,” Agron drawled sleepily. 

Nasir smiled brazenly in response. “Do you want breakfast?”

“Can I move?” He was mildly uncomfortable under such powerful scrutiny, but he didn’t want to fuck up Nasir’s drawing. If the sketchbook Agron had peeped into without permission was any indication, he was a frequent subject of his work, though Nasir very seldom used him as a live model. 

“Yes,” Nasir answered softly. “I did you first.”

His tone held the slightly hint of innuendo, and it made Agron grateful that the sheets covered his arousal. 

“Breakfast?” Nasir prompted, pencil still scratching away on the page. 

“I’m hungry, but not for food.”

Nasir laughed aloud. “What a cheesy line. You’re out of practice in the art of seduction, my friend.”

Agron groaned quietly as he rolled onto his back to gaze openly at Nasir. The man had gone to sleep clothed, as usual, in one of Agron’s shirts, but now he wore only a pair of solid red pajama bottoms. That long, black hair Agron loved to feel brushing his chest or sliding through his fingers was wild around his face. He found his gaze drawn to Nasir’s torso as he breathed, the gorgeous play of lean muscles beneath blemish-less skin. 

In an effort to keep his hands _off_ , Agron raised them behind his head and leaned back. 

“Oh, fuck you,” Nasir groaned under his breath, abandoning his current drawing and flipping to a clean page. 

“What?” Agron asked innocently. What could he possibly have done to offend Nasir?

He tried to keep the smile off his face, but he knew he was unsuccessful. He was in too light a mood. “You can’t move now from that spot. Not a muscle, mister.” Did Agron know what an alluring scene he made? 

Agron laughed deep in his throat. “I can’t… I won’t be able to keep my right arm up for very long.” It stung his throat to admit the weakness, but he wanted to _try_ to be honest. 

“Lower it. Rest it on your stomach. A little lower… palm down.”

Agron obeyed and cursed internally at the proximity of his hand to his growing… He reached for the heavy blanket they’d kicked off during the night to better cover himself, but Nasir stopped him. 

“No! I want you just like that.”

Face flooding with heat, Agron averted his gaze and smiled at the wall. 

“Look at me,” Nasir commanded softly. “Don’t turn away.”

Agron saw heat in the depths of those liquid-brown eyes. It only served to fuel his arousal, which nearly tented the thin sheets covering him. Ages… it had been ages since he’d known Nasir in that way. Despite his slight embarrassment at being Nasir’s model, Agron’s heart beat faster at the increasingly smoldering look he was receiving. 

When he could stand it no longer, he growled, “Come here.”

Nasir glanced briefly down at his sketchbook one last time before he snapped it shut, slid the pencil in the binding, and tossed it onto the floor. Then he began crawling up the bed. 

“Don’t I get to see it?”

Nasir shook his head. “It’s not done. I’ll finish later. You’ve given me quite an eye-full.”

Agron smiled and reached to cup the back of Nasir’s head. 

The doorbell rang. 

“Shit, shit, shit!” Agron breathed. They both froze, but the person buzzed several more times in quick succession. 

Nasir cursed as he recognized their guest. “Naevia!” He jumped from the bed, evading Agron’s efforts to pull him back down, and pulled on a t-shirt as he ran to open the door. 

“Hey, honey!” Naevia swept past him without waiting for an invitation. She had a thousand megawatt smile on her face that he couldn’t help but return. 

“Good morning. It’s a little early, don’t you think?”

“ _Yes_ ,” Agron answered before Naevia could respond, emerging from the bedroom. He’d managed to get himself into a bathrobe before coming out and was knotting the waist as he moved to stand behind Nasir. “You woke us up!”

“Still not a morning person, are you, Sasquatch?” She held up a large, flat box for their inspection. “I come at a reasonable hour, yet bear gifts in anticipation of your crankiness. And I didn’t wake you up,” she accused, eyeing Nasir knowingly. “I know what you were up to.”

Try as he might, Nasir couldn’t keep the blush from rising in his cheeks. “Oh my god, have you always been this annoyingly chipper in the morning?”

“HA!” Naevia laughed triumphantly. “You were totally getting it on, am I right? No, don’t tell me. But I can tell I’m right by the looks on your faces.”

Coughing to hide his embarrassment, Nasir grabbed the box from her hand and brought it to the kitchen. “Not that we don’t love to be interrupted for doughnut breaks –”

“And kolaches! I brought kolaches too.”

“ _What are you doing here?_ ” Nasir accepted a paper towel from Agron and picked up a glazed doughnut, stuffing about a quarter of it into his mouth. He was epically frustrated. For the first time since before Agron had gone missing, they were finally falling back into their old groove. Trust buzz-kill Naevia to come and spoil the moment.

“I’m here to take Agron to his doctor’s appointment.”

“What?” Nasir turned to Agron. “How come I didn’t know about this?”

Agron frowned at him, shrugged, and took a sizable chunk out of his kolache. 

Naevia stepped forward. “Because I was the one who took him out of the hospital, it was me they called to confirm the appointment. Don’t be mad, Nasir. I figured that you’d want to be there. We can all meet up with Crixus after for lunch.”

“Oh, super!” Nasir said sarcastically. He started for the bedroom to change into real clothes, but Agron’s voice stopped him. 

“Hang on. She’s not telling us something.” Agron glared at her suspiciously. He still hadn’t totally forgiven her for treating him like a pathetic invalid when she’d taken him home. 

Nasir stifled a grin as he watched Agron approach Naevia. He hadn’t seen this side of Agron in a long time: the cop. Even in a bathrobe, the man could appear intimidating. 

“There’s a reason why she’s so nauseatingly happy, and I can’t help but think that a doctor’s appointment and lunch with the _four_ of us isn’t it.”

Naevia smiled sweetly up at him. “Note to self: give the boys warning before showing up unexpectedly in the middle of nookie. Which base did I interrupt?”

Agron only stared her down. 

She sighed, but her eyes lit up in excitement. “Fine. We’re throwing you a surprise party!”

Nasir could tell that she’d been absolutely bursting to spill the beans ever since she had arrived. He also sensed that Agron wasn’t going to go quietly to his own homecoming celebration.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agron gets through his doctor's appointment and Naevia manages to get him to his surprise party. All is well until Agron sees Nasir laughing with Castus. It's as if the last several weeks hadn't happened - the old "jealously" argument resurfaces and the pair duke it out in the parking lot.

“Stop pouting, you big baby. The doctor isn’t going to bite.”

“ _I am not_ –” Agron cut himself off and took a breath so as to finish his sentence in a reasonably calm manner. “Pouting.”

“ _Naevia_ ,” Nasir warned from the backseat, reaching forward to squeeze Agron’s shoulder. He knew Agron wanted to put the hospital, his injuries, and the whole kidnapping ordeal out of his mind immediately and forever. But he wouldn’t be able to blink all this away.

“What? I already canceled the party while you both were getting dressed. Now you’ll have a barrage of friends knocking down your door to see how you are instead of meeting them all in one manageable place. I don’t really see how that’s better. Anyway, cheer up! Doctor’s almost over and we’ll really only be a minute with Crixus. He’s your partner, he has to know how you’re doing.”

Nasir tried not to tow Agron behind him as they entered the hospital’s waiting room. Even if he wanted to make the big lug move faster, all he’d gain from the effort would be an even grouchier Agron and probably a sore arm. After sitting himself down in a corner, Agron adopted a sinister glower, curling his lip at random passersby and all but growling at hospital staff, as though daring any of them to perform a check-up on him. 

Unperturbed as he usually was with Agron’s anger, Nasir sat beside him and began filling out the necessary paperwork. He allowed his left hand to rest on Agron’s forearm as he wrote, and that seemed to calm him a degree. 

Naevia’s foot tapped impatiently on the floor in front of him and Nasir looked up to pin her with a glare. She gave him a cheeky smile, crossed her ankles beneath the chair, and pulled a Kindle reader out of her purse. 

After waiting a mere quarter hour, Agron’s name was called. He left without allowing Nasir or Naevia the opportunity to offer to accompany him inside. 

When he was out of sight, Naevia immediately took Agron’s vacated seat, abandoning the illusion that she was reading. “So, I’ve got everyone waiting to meet us at the Pub, the one across the street from the Laundromat that smells like an entire vat of detergent just exploded.”

“Naevia…”

“You’re going to love it! They’ve just redone the billiards area and I can’t wait to beat your ass at a few games.” 

“Are you sure we can’t do this another day? Neither of us are really in a party mood.”

She patted his arm in mock sympathy. “No, sweetie. You’ve made everyone wait long enough. Do you understand how happy people are that he’s home in one piece? It’ll be good for him to see his friends and he’ll have the time of his life before you know it. Promise.”

He wasn’t so sure, but turned from her and pulled out his phone to check his neglected email account while he waited for Agron to emerge. 

***

Agron folded himself into the backseat of Naevia’s car next to an agitated Nasir. During the entire eight minute journey to the Pub to have lunch and touch-base with Crixus, Nasir had squeezed and worried Agron’s hand and fingers, refusing to divulge the source of his unease. 

A part of him wanted to tug his entire arm out of Nasir’s grasp. The doctor had removed all remaining bandages and it left his wrists feeling naked and exposed. An ugly scar circled both of them like sickening bracelets, reminders of his imprisonment. But Nasir didn’t seem to take notice of them and for that, Agron would pretend they didn’t bother him. Maybe if he pretended long enough, it would eventually become reality. 

When they pulled into the parking lot and exited the vehicle, Nasir kissed him reassuringly and whispered in his ear, “I tried to stop this. Remember how much you love Naevia? Okay, maybe not right now, but I assure you, you’d be sorry if you killed her. Also Crixus would make your life hell.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

Nasir’s face broke into a huge false smile as he glanced over at Naevia, who was checking her reflection in a hand mirror. “Let me know if I need to stage or fake an injury. Code word: Saskatchewan. I don’t want to be here either.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Agron hissed. 

Rather than answer, Nasir’s eyes flickered to the other cars in the parking lot. Very familiar cars. Agron felt sick to his stomach. “Why Saskatchewan? Do I have to take you there for vacation or something?” he asked under his breath as they followed slowly after Naevia. 

“We’re not going there. Because it’s fun to say and very unlikely to come up in normal conversation. You don’t like it? By all means, pick a different word.”

“No, it’s fine. I was just –”

But the rest of Agron’s sentence was drowned out by a cacophony of jubilant cries created by a crowd of their friends and co-workers. Agron managed to plaster a moderately convincing smile on his face when he saw them. Nasir was sure he was the only one to notice the small wince Agron stifled at the eruption of noise. 

He was acutely impressed at how well his man handled the attention. But, however much he wanted to be at Agron’s side while everyone bombarded him with questions and well-wishes, Nasir knew when to stay back. 

***

Agron tried to inject interest into his expression, but after Saxa and Lugo had extracted him from the crowd, excluding everyone else through the use of spoken German twenty minutes ago, his attention, and patience, were waning drastically. After gently excusing himself from the conversation, he went in search of Nasir, who had kept an careful distance up until this point, but usually maintained an un-stifling proximity. 

As he was the “guest of honor” at this party, it was difficult for him to quickly maneuver through everyone without being sidetracked, but he finally spotted Nasir leaning against a barstool and laughing with Castus. 

What the fuck was that prick doing here?

A tidal wave of resentment swept through him. He had spent three weeks as a prisoner for a drug cartel – been beaten, tortured, and starved – come home to Nasir and barely manage to patch up their relationship, only to find the same man responsible for their original distance flirting with his boyfriend? He felt betrayed that Nasir could look at anyone other than him with such obvious affection. 

“Honey,” Castus whispered in warning, lightly touching his forearm and gazing at a place slightly over Nasir’s shoulder with trepidation. 

Nasir turned to see Agron marching towards him, an alarming look in his emerald eyes. Fearing that someone had triggered a memory or flashback of his kidnapping, Nasir went to him at once and cupped his face with both hands. 

“What’s wrong?” he asked quietly, pulling Agron down to press their foreheads together. “Saskatchewan?” 

Agron found his breath coming in sharp pants. His gaze flickered briefly to Castus, then he tangled a hand in Nasir’s hair and crushed their lips together. 

Stunned under the assault, Nasir couldn’t do anything but open for Agron’s demanding tongue. Hands trailed possessively down his back and pulled him forcefully against Agron’s body. Nasir pulled back when he heard hooting and catcalling from some of their friends. 

He tried to catch Agron’s eye, but he wasn’t looking at him. Nasir followed his gaze, then disentangled himself from Agron with a sound of disgust. 

“That was about _him_?” He whispered dangerously, pointing at Cas. “You just thought you’d come over here and _mark your territory_? Why not stamp your name across my forehead?”

Nasir was pissed, but nothing could make him forget their audience. Agron might not care about making a scene in front of everyone, but this was nobody’s business but theirs. He tugged Agron out of the pub and into the parking lot. 

“What the hell was that? I thought we’d gotten past your jealously issues?”

Agron crossed his arms across his chest and stared him down. “My _jealously issues_?” he mocked. “Is it an issue for me when my boyfriend flirts with other men?”

“If you don’t know by now that I’m completely and helplessly devoted to you, then you’re beyond all help. I have prayed for your return and stood by you even when you told me to basically fuck off.”

“I never –” Agron began, but Nasir spoke over him. 

“You banished me from the hospital during your recovery. Do you know how unbearable it was for me, to face rejection from you when all I wanted to do was hug and kiss you senseless?” Nasir planted his hands on his hips and glared up at Agron. “And I was still there for you when you came home. If I’d wanted to leave you, it would have been weeks ago when you were acting like a giant dictator, telling me who I could and couldn’t see.”

“Is that supposed to make me feel _better_? Knowing you think of leaving me?”

“You do not own me, Agron. I have no romantic feelings for Cas. He is a dear friend and that’s all. Either you trust me or you don’t.”

“I trust you,” Agron said in a low cadence.

“You don’t,” Nasir countered. “I shouldn’t have to guard my smiles around Cas or anyone. I love you so much, even when we fight. I can live without you, but I can’t function or do anything but simply exist…” He paused as he tried to channel his emotions into coherent words. He didn’t think he was doing a very good job. “I would never do anything to jeopardize what we have.”

Agron looked at him with an unreadable expression, and then pulled him into a gentle embrace, holding him as if he were afraid of hurting him. “I lost Duro a few months before we met. You’ve heard the story. I couldn’t save him. It was all I wanted in the world, but it wasn’t enough. For years since our parents died, it was just the two of us. I would have killed for him, and then he was just gone. Meeting you pulled me out of my misery over his death. Having you gave me someone to look after, someone to love and protect. I’m the way I am because I struggle daily with the desire to encase you in bubble wrap and stick you in an underground bunker to keep anything from happening to you.”

He felt Nasir’s body shake with laughter in his arms. “I’m glad you fight your baser urges.” Nasir pulled back to look him in the eye. “I love that about you. That you protect those close to you. But I’m not so fragile that I can’t defend myself from time to time. And you have no need to feel threatened by my friendship with Cas. I would _never_ ask you to throw away a friend for me. I need you to show me the same courtesy.”

“I’ll try.” He dipped his head and Nasir responded at once, closing the distance between their lips. 

“Do or do not, there is no try.”

It was Agron’s turn to laugh. “You did _not_ get all Star Wars geeky on me.”

“Hey, now! Who understood the reference? It’s nice to see my hard work pay off. I’ll turn you into a fanboy yet.”

“Not likely.” Agron gave him a few more lip smacking kisses. 

“Uh huh… I know you love it.”

“I love you –”

“Oh, god!” Crixus’ voice interrupted him. “You two know that you’re nowhere close to a private room, right? I don’t want to get my partner back _and _arrest him for public indecency on the same day, give me a break.”__

__Agron kept Nasir pinned to his side with an arm around his shoulders while he offered Crixus a handshake. “Hey, man.”_ _

__“I visited you in the hospital, but you were sleeping at the time. Sorry I didn’t try again.”_ _

__“Nurse told me you came. I was glad to hear you got him.” _Him_ being the leader of the cartel. Crixus had led the charge in rescuing him and arresting all guilty parties. “I slept better knowing you were out there working rather than visiting me.”_ _

__Crixus huffed and crossed his arms, as if bringing up the case had resurrected bad memories. “Are you coming back inside? Naevia’s about to bring out your welcome home from captivity cake. And no, it doesn’t actually say that.”_ _

__Agron groaned and let his head fall back._ _

__Maintaining a tight grip on Agron’s hand, Nasir squared his shoulders and tried to speak with confidence. “Tell Naevia that I have suddenly fallen ill and we need to return home immediately so Agron can get me into bed and feed me soup.”_ _

__Crixus let out a bark of laughter while Agron leaned down to kiss the side of Nasir’s face. Nasir turned his head to collide with his lips._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, sorry for making readers wait so long! I feel confident that the pair have resolved their problems, but I can't leave it at this! As with Tenderness Unknown, I will post an epilogue. The only thing left to resolve is how much I should (or shouldn't) let my smut side run wild. A little poll? I have avoided it in previous chapters, but should I run with my instincts and give them long awaited reunion sex, or keep it on this level? I really have no desire to change the rating to 'Explicit' so maybe I should try to write something for them in the realm of 'Mature'? Or just keep it as it, but with a little disclaimer before the chapter? (For those of you really craving smut, I am writing a second part for my "kinky" series, what happens after "Dessert.")


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